


The Balance Between Ice and Fire

by PassionateSoul



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Genderbending, Incest, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-23 03:06:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4860674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PassionateSoul/pseuds/PassionateSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Jon Snow was born Lysara Snow? What if she became a formidable Foe in The Game of Thrones? Yes, What if?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions I and II

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Of Queens and Their Loves](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1972392) by [DiamondsxStags](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondsxStags/pseuds/DiamondsxStags). 



> I am finally brave enough to post something!  
> Please let me know how I did and if I should continue.
> 
> PS

**INTRODUCTION I**

_‘Perfection’_ one thinks when they first catch a glimpse of Lysara.

Hers is a timeless beauty consisting of dark wavy hair, an unblemished cream-colored skin, a body whose shape is not too voluptuous nor too gangly with a perfectly moderate stature and a highborn lady’s sureness and grace. All of that is nothing compared to her eyes though. If one didn’t know any better they’d think she was of Valyrian descent with her indigo-like eyes that mesmerize any who lock gazes with them.

If you can imagine her physical attributes, let us continue with her personality.

The **_lady_** you meet with, for make no mistakes she comes out as one, is polite and gracious to friends and family and strangers alike no matter their station.

Although, just between you and me, she too has flaws. One such flaw being her lack of expressions, or in other words, being stoic. Sara, when truly vexed will lock herself in her rooms to rage for a perceived slight against her, with none the wiser. On the other hand, the lass will let her loved ones know with a familial touch or smile when she is happy or proud. Yet, Sara has only ever been truly emotional when playing the harp. Oh, such thoughtful gazes she makes with the melancholic melodies she plays. There, playing the harp is when Lysara truly shows herself weak.

She is well versed on her chosen pursuits such as learning the history of ‘The Seven Kingdoms and Beyond’, herbal remedies, and playing cyvasse. Though she prefers intellectual pursuits over the womanly arts, she performs her duties without fault. Sara would tell herself, “What do I have if not my duty.”

Lysara is all that and more, yet when people learn of her surname, she is immediately cast out off of the people’s minds. While women of either high or low caliber look at her with pity and disgust, their male counterparts’ lust unabashedly after her.

All that transpires when they learn of her surname.

Lysara may be all that is described of her yet she is not a Stark, she is not a daughter of highborn or a lesser nobility couple. No, she was conceived out of wedlock, to an already married Lord and of a women of questionable origins. Therefore, she was an unwanted burden to all because Lysara Snow was a bastard, and a bastard she will always be……Right?

 

**INTRODUCTION II**

Robb Stark has always been a very outgoing child. When he was first put on his mother’s arms, instead of crying he began to coo and in later months; smile. There have only ever been a few instances where the young lord became quite serious enough to worry others. The first and most troubling time was when he was taught what a bastard is and how that horrible label belonged to his beloved sister, Sara.

_Robb was in the nursery room with Sara, trying to teach little Sansa to build structures with wooden blocks and definitely failing when the door opened and,_

_“What is the girl doing in here?”_

_Old Nan, having started to doze off, immediately stood up gave a curtsy and exclaimed,_

_“Lady Stark, what a pleasant surprise!”_

_“Don’t worry mama, we were just showing Sansa here how to use these blocks with the help of Old Nan.” Lady Catelyn, ignoring what her eldest child told her and the two others, turned towards Sara with a murderous gaze, stalked towards them, took her arm, brought her up and shaking her demanded,_

_“Have I not explicitly told you to not come close to my children?”_

_Little Lysara lowered her gaze to the ground, while Robb tried to speak up but could not._

_“Well yes m’Lady, but…”_

_Not waiting for the rest of her stuttering, Catelyn dragged her by the arm, left the nursery and gave a shout of,_

_“NED”_

_Meanwhile Robb was looking towards Old Nan for an explanation._

 

_“Why is mother so against Sara spending time with us, Nan” “You mind yer business little lord, you will understand later on. Stay here and play while I’ll take care of this little lass, alright?” ”…Okay…” Turning her back to Little Robb, Old Nan grabbed the fussing toddler and mumbling under her breath departed from the chamber not noticing she was missing a lordling._

 

_The Lady was so engrossed on pulling little Sara’s arm and almost sprinting, she never noticed the small figure following them towards Lord Stark’s study._

_Once they came upon the entrance, Catelyn did not bother to knock and barged right inside, forgetting to close the door._

_“Ned I’ve dealt with the stain upon our marriage for five years and the only thing I’ve asked of you was to keep your bastard away from **our** children and yet I find this…… girl, playing as if she too was part of **our** family, as is she was entitled to it!”_

_The Lord Paramount of the North Eddard ‘Ned’ Stark was looking through some documents when his Lady wife barged in demanding and explanation._

_The Lord of Winterfell could be called cold and unyielding to those who don’t know him well, yet when in the company of loved ones he would shed his mask and loose his hold on his burdens. Only in this case the opposite could be claimed, if of course, he could be studied at such time._

_Hearing what his Lady wife was saying made him remember things better left in the past. Nevertheless he took a deep breath, stood up and brought his sight upon them._

_“Catelyn, it would please me if you let go of Lysara at this moment. Let her go and then we’ll talk about the so called issue._

_Said lady immediately let go making Sara stumble._

_With a kind gesture the lord, came upon her, ignoring his wife and stepped down to her level._

_He gave her an encompassing embrace and softly whispered,_

_“Why don’t you go to your chamber and rest for a while, eh?”_

_Lysara, having gone through a great ordeal that day would later come to the conclusion that what the Lady Stark made her feel, was humiliation. That day she made a promise to herself; To never let_ **Catelyn** _make her feel that way again._

_She numbly gave a curtsy to the lord and lady and passing through the threshold noticed her half-brother. Finally she closed the door and tried to ignore him and deal with the humiliation she felt. She had to rapidly get away. She just had to. Therefore she did._

_Because of what he heard, Robb wanted an explanation on why his mother always acted that way around Sara, yet as a child he was intimidated by both parents so he went to Sara  directly._

_He followed her._

_He found her in the Godswood; taking deep breathes so as not to start crying, he reckoned. Once he came to the conclusion she was calmed enough, he spoke._

_“Sara, why does mother always treat you so. Please tell me, I’m tired of waiting and waiting for an explanation.”_

_“I’m afraid you will look at me differently, that you will shun me…” she pleaded._

_Looking at her pain-filled gaze he knew that no matter what her personal feelings entailed, this was the day she would tell him everything._

_She half-heartedly told him._

 

Many would think that after finding that his sister was a bastard he would either be mean to her or plain ignore her like little Sansa would later do. That wasn’t the case.

He became livid, for he now understood why his lady mother would treat his younger sister so poorly. Why other adults would look at Lysara with something akin to disdain and why most children of the banner men would not play with her unless specifically ordered to do so.

Therefore, as the years passed and new additions to the family were added, Robb Stark would always make sure to teach and remind the rest of his siblings to love and cherish their sister. That even though they only shared a father Lysara was still a Stark, if not in name then in blood. He would later quote their father;

_ The Lone Wolf Dies but The Pack Survives. _


	2. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Theon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be part of the real chapter but I decided to post at least something really small instead of keeping you guys waiting.

**SOME YEARS LATER**

**INTERLUDE: Theon**

Theon Greyjoy was always underestimated, it did not matter that for years he strove to make his guardians proud, he still fell short when it came to the heir of Winterfell: Robb Stark. Theon himself had mix feelings about the heir. Even knowing they were considered friends he still felt envious of what the Heir had, compared to what he used to have and what was his now.

After all, the childhood he spent on the Iron Islands was with a very demanding father and an absent mother. With brothers who did not care for you and a sister everyone half liked and half loathed, he was always forgotten.

The Starks took him from his family after the death of all his brothers and the defeat of his father but he still tried to fit in. It didn’t work out as he hoped it would.

As everyone who treated with Theon knew, the time he did not train, he spent messing with the whores at Ross’, so the times he was over on the main court not many payed him any mind.  
If he were any other person, noble or not, Theon would not have noticed anything amiss yet with his mind almost always on matters better not asked, he did.  
The smoldering glances he gave her. The embraces that lasted a few more seconds than appropriate, and the twitch of the lips she gave him when he did something funny. All that and more would make people think they were lovers not brother and sister.  
The people would never have guessed that their beloved Robb Stark; heir to all the territory considered The North, has feelings for his bastard half-sister and even less that she reciprocated those feelings as well.  
He was loath to admit but he became jealous of the attention Lysara was always giving Robb. He secretly fancied himself in love with her grace and beauty but she, like everyone else had eyes only for Robb. He hated that with a passion only rivaled by his appetite for women.  
Not that Theon cared, much. After all he could still remember the times his older brothers imposed their seed on either wanton or stolen women without a care in the world. Though in one of those few moments of kindness he gets, he’ll try to beat the obsession he and Robb have towards Sara by sparring and maybe, just maybe he will win this once.

" _I'll do that"_ he thought.  _"After a meeting with Ross"._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the views and kudos!!  
> I appreciate it!!!


	3. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end Part 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel the writing is a bit awkward but I wanted to post something, so sorry if it feels wrong or something else.  
> Had two chapters, ones going different directions but I finally made a decision.

**CHAPTER 1**

Robb Stark was six and ten summers and having started noticing womenfolk three years ago did nothing to take away the possessive feelings he still has over Lysara. He was also aware that no matter how hard he tried to get rid of those incestuous feelings he failed each and every time.

Robb was nowhere near admitting that time and time again the few whores he spent with were never remembered since the woman he craved was so ingrained in his memories that he only ever saw her. No matter the actions he took to not think of her, nothing ever worked. She was always there, if not in his thoughts then in his presence. If her looks weren’t enough, her personality was a godsend; the perfect balance between a lady and a wolf-maid.

 _‘Twas getting harder to resist her allure’_ Robb had remembered thinking. Today was the beginning of a new day, therefore another attempt at forgetting Sara. After all, that is what she had asked of him, even after what happened between the both of them.

“…Robb…” a voice was thought to come from the door.

“…Hmmm…”

“Robb!!”

Incoherent mumbles were the only thing coming from inside.

“If you could wait just one….”

The door was immediately opened and in she went.

“Robb, not again, you know you were supposed to be up by….”

That was when Lysara Snow stopped talking and noticed that her half-brother had no shirt on.  _‘There he was, his naked torso for all to see and admire. All but me.’_ She brought herself out of her envious thought.

“Is something wrong sister”He spoke after finally waking up from his slumber, knowing but not caring that Sara was looking at his figure. He in turn checked what gown she had on for today, making sure she did not have something too revealing on that could compromise his and her integrity out there.

“No nothing, just wanted to let you know it’s time to break our fast. Ready yourself quick, there have been news of a deserter.” Lysara finally broke the awkward silence that came upon the room and passed him new britches and shirt to get ready.

“So soon already? It’s been what? A few days since the last one was caught.” Robb exclaimed, about to take his trousers off.

Lysara not wanting to stay around for that, gave him a flustered look and made to leave,

 “Yes, well, I’ll let you finish clothing yourself in peace” she exclaimed after having gotten a blush to her person.

He, noticing the shy looks she was giving him but not saying anything continued. After the talk they had he would only treat with her at arm’s length.

Except…

“Wait!” he gestured after stopping and standing up.

“…Sara you know we should talk about—“

“Robb, please let’s just leave it behind us, alright?” she pleaded after looking back at him.

“We **will** be coming back to talk about the matter, that is a given. You can go, thank you for still looking after me.” He broke their staring contest.

“You would do the same for me….. **brother.** ” She turned around and left, closing the door after her.

 

She closed the door after her and sighed, trying not to remember.

_She brought her hands to his wrists, holding them there until she was sure he would not move them._

_Oh so slowly she loosened her hold and brought her hands on his arms, caressing his broad muscles and going towards his naked shoulders. There she spread her fingers until they touched all the skin available._

_Whilst she explored his upper physique, he began to undress her little by little._

Why couldn’t everything go the way she wanted it to! She was well aware she should stop remembering, she scolded herself yet that never stopped her from doing it. The memories keep getting to her and she can’t help but want more. Can’t help but want him again.

_Robb finished undressing her and touched places that have never been touched before. Whilst he was becoming aroused by the seconds, Lysara was beginning to lose her mind with impatience, so she brought him to the bed, sat him down and began to take his boots and breaches off of him. Doing that slowly drove both of them mad but when he began to unburden Sara, she did not let him.Laying on the bed, both naked, they looked at each other and leaning like two opposing forces, they dazedly began to close in._

Coming back to the present, Lysara made to go break fast and as she was leaving the halls she was met with the lady Sansa _‘because gods forgive her for even thinking about her as anything but a lady.’_

“Come now Lysara my lady mother and lord father have been waiting for Robb and you for too long, so just go back to the kitchens, I’ll be the one getting Robb since by the looks of it you have not even knocked.” The younger half-sister knew she was being cruel but she had good reasons or at least she thought she did, in her mind.

Since she can remember, Sansa, the trueborn daughter of the Warden of the North heard the whispers. The whispers of common folk and lords alike of how the bastard daughter of their liege lord looked more Stark in manners and looks than his trueborn children. Sansa was aware that she shouldn’t get jealous of the bastard but when everyone sees Lysara they become enamored with her and Sansa is left in the dust. She has tried and tried to be the better of the two but each time she checks if she has become more loved and cherished by the people then it’s always the same; always Lysara! _‘She’s better than me at everything a lady is and the only thing she is missing is being trueborn. At least I have that over her.’_

With her hands having clenched automatically by the sight of Sansa, Sara trying to seem relaxed, gave her a quite fake smile and curtsied,

“Well then Sansa, if you’ll excuse m—“

“Yes well, go on….. Oh! And its LADY Sansa to you Lysara.” And Sara knew it was her dismissal but oh how she wanted to show that little –

Finally Winterfell’s bastard left, and even though inside she felt ridiculed and filled with embarrassment everyone who saw her pass by would not guess she was feeling like that. They would all think it was actually one of her better days.

 

As the Starks were having their food served a missive came for Lord Eddard Stark.

 

“What is it Maester Luwin?” spoke the lord of Winterfell

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, your family time m’lord but there have been news of a captured deserter.”

“Well then it is my duty to pass on the judgement to him but this time I’ll be taking Bran with me.” Eddard Stark looked to his lady wife as if to judge the impact the news would cause her.

“Ned, it’s too soon…”The lady tried to convince Ned otherwise but,

“The decision has already been made, there is no turning back.” Turning to the Maester he commanded him to call for Lysara.

 _‘She would want to witness the king’s justice’_ Eddard thought. _‘Just like her.’_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope people like this chapter because I am not as happy with it. Oh well. ;)  
> P.S. The underlined words are taken from the books

**CHAPTER 2**

Lysara was in the kitchens, just finishing up her meal when she heard her name being called by the maester.

“Yes Maester Luwin. Is something wrong? Are you in need of some help?” She replied as she turned her attention towards him.

“No Lysara, I am letting you know that your lord father has requested your presence for the Judgement of the newest deserter. He thought you would like to attend as a positive presence for the young lord Brandon.”

“Well then, I’ll just clean the dishes and will meet them all in the stables. Thank you maester, I appreciate you coming all this way to tell me.”

“Do not worry about me dear. I’ll be fine right here.” The maester then sat himself in the stool previously occupied by Sara whilst she washed the dishes.

“All done. I’ll see you soon maester.”

“Very well Lysara.”

* * *

As she came upon the stables Sara was greeted by the awaiting party already set to move so she went directly to her mount; a dark stallion named Nox and got him ready as fast as possible.

Once done getting Nox ready she mounted him and hearing the men yelling about a race she began to follow the familiar path to the chosen holdfast near some hills. As she passed the grove of plants belonging to the North which hid the snowy field she began to lose speed and by the looks of it she was the first. Once there she followed the same routine of the past twenty times they have come before. She dismounted her horse when they arrived without any difficulty and waited for the Lord of Winterfell to appear. Sara was made aware of Brandon following her by his plea for help when she looked back; he had trouble stopping his excited horse.

She immediately went to help her younger half-brother with controlling Hazel, the horse.

“Here’s the way to do it, Bran. You need to be firm but gentle with them.” And showed him how to make his horse stop.

“Thanks Sara, I don’t know what I would do without you here to help me with Hazel once more.” Bran spoke.

“No need to give thanks brother, you would do the same if I were in need of help.”

Once finished they both had a good look at the hills as if they were looking for something, or it should be said, someone and stopped dead once they found it.

There a few yards before them was the deserter bound hand and foot to the holdfast. This old man looked nothing like a Night Watch’s brother—at least to them he was not, he was old and decrepit with not much fat to his body. It also seemed he had lost a few fingers to frostbite.

As Brandon was about to comment on the image the man made, they began to hear the coming of hooves, signaling the entrance of the lord followed by the others.

Without another word Lysara went back to mount her horse and they waited.

As soon as the group arrived they noticed the two of them but made no move to come near, instead the ones who did where the two half siblings Sara coming not too close to Robb and Bran following after her.

Without another word the Lord Eddard—with his long brown hair and grey eyes, asked questions which both siblings payed no mind to, he then dismounted his horse whilst giving word to the guardsmen to bring the bound man to the center of the square where a stump of wood resided.

With a solemn air to his walk, Lord Eddard gave a signal to his ward Theon Greyjoy who was in charge of Ice the Stark ancestral Valyrian sword, to bring it to him and he readily did so.

As Theon came close to where the deserter and the Lord of Winterfell were located, Ned took his gloves off to better hold his sword. He then received Ice from theon and turned to the man stating

_“In the name of the House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, by the word of  Eddard of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, I do sentence you to die.”_ Sword in hand, being lifted above his head is when Lysara chose to give Bran advice,

“Do not look away. Our father will know and won’t be happy if you do.”

And so the whole group waited and soon enough the lord carried his sword down and with one stroke the head was severed from its body.

It was finally over.

“You did good, little brother.” Sara commented. After swallowing more words of comfort she headed of towards the heir and Theon while Bran came upon his father.

“Lysara what do you think about the dead man, eh? Robb here says he died with courage to his stance.” Theon broke the silence between the other two after seeing that they would not speak.

“That my friends was not courage. He was scared of something or other but not of dying, not quite at least.” Was finally spoken after the siblings broke eye contact.

“Theon, Lysara why don’t we see who was right with a race.”

“The winner wins the argument, then?”

“Why not. The one who first appears on the bridge is the victor.”

Lysara was already galloping away before Robb even finished the sentence.

* * *

 

After having a talk with his father, Bran trotted towards the bridge when he heard words being spoken.

_“How…”_

_“Robb found them…”_

And as he came closer with his father they both heard them.

_“…Look its…”_

_“…Direwolves…”_

Then they both decided to hurry and by the time they arrived they found the guardsmen whispering while Sara was beside Robb on the frozen river that’s under the bridge. They were both holding direwolf pups, the rest were suckling milk from their dead mother’s body.

“By the Gods!” murmured the Lord.

“Robb, Sara get away from there. ‘tis not safe.” Jory Cassel, the captain of Winterfell’s guard exclaimed with his sword already out.

The rest of the party quickly dismounted their horses to take a look.

“The mother is dead and by the looks of it she died fighting a stag since its antlers are stuck in her throat.” Sara explained after pointedly ignoring the shouts of warning some gave out.

Bran wanting to take a closer look, slowly walked towards them.

‘She felt like the Gods were somehow speaking through this occasion, trying to tell them something, but what.’ Sara thought to herself whilst giving Bran the pup she was holding before taking another one and hugging it close.

As she counted the pups she realized something.

“There’s five direwolf pups.”

“Tis of no matter, they be dead soon enough.” Hullen, the master of horse.

“Give ‘em to me, Bran” Theon spoke as he brought his knife out of the sheath.

“Theon, no! They belong with the Starks.” Lysara.

Before the conversation could turn into an argument Eddard interrupted.

“T’would be a mercy to them. Better than a slow death out here in the cold.”

Robb with determination in his voice thought out loud.

“We could keep them as companions. There is a bitch who just gave birth, we could use her as the mother.”

When it seemed that the lord was about to say no, Lysara stepped up and pleaded with her lord father,

“Lord stark there are three male pups and two female, each for your trueborn children. This was meant to happen.” She was aware of what she was saying. She was acknowledging a fact she detested but it was all for the good of the pups and the happiness of her half-siblings.

Yet it still hurt.

The only consolation was that she knew her lord father would give in now that she had spoken. After all, the few times she had really pushed for something she wanted he would easily acquiesce to her pleading.

“Very well. You will nurse them, train them by yourselves and if they die you will bury them yourselves. Understood?”

“We will!” “Yes father.” Was heard from the Stark boys even when Robb kept giving Sara furtive glances asking for forgiveness even if he felt gratitude for what she did. He knew that admission would have cost her a lot to say out loud.

“Well then, hurry and get the pups. Jory, Desmond will carry them.”

“Aye, m’lord.”

* * *

 

Once everyone were on their horses started to trot, Sara suddenly stopped and went back to the dead mother.

“Sara, wait!”

“I just want to make sure of something. I think I heard some whimpering.” She yelled as she got closer to the site.

Once there, she crept closer to the whimpering and found a pup half buried by the snow. As she held the pup to her face and locked gazes with the other, she found herself entranced by the albino wolf. It was tiny compared to his siblings but just as she knew her siblings’ happiness would hurt a part of her, she also knew that with him by her side everything would be alright.

So she carried the pup back to where the rest were waiting, feelings of peace surrounding her.

“Look who I found a ways away from the rest.”

“The runt of the litter that is who you found, Snow.” Theon snorted.

“Quiet Greyjoy!” Robb interrupted. “I am truly glad you found him Sara.”

She gave Robb her pup to keep for a bit while she mounted her horse. He gave him back once she was situated next to him.

As she nestled the pup in an etra coat to keep him warm she thought up names she could give him.

And as she saw the image of Winteerfell coming up, she felt she knew.

_‘Ghost. Your name is Ghost.’_  And as if Ghost could read her mind he yipped what felt like an affirmative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you all for the kudos you have given this story. I am glad people enjoy reading my first true work of fan fiction aka my baby.
> 
> Also, There are three ways the story can go. Option 1 is where Sara goes to Pentos with the Targaryens before the Starks leave for the Capital and the war. In Option 2 Sara goes to kings landing but she still ends up in Pentos with the Targaryens. In both options Lysara finds out her parentage earlier than in Option 3. Now this is where she stays with Robb instead of going to King’s Landing or leaving for Essos but for those who vote for 3, know that it will take a bit more time to write the chapters since I don’t have the outline, just ideas for it. So please if you could leave a comment with your choice or any other ideas, i'll take that into account.
> 
> Thanks!


	5. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A type of filler chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you who left kudos and who gave me their opinion when asked about the path this story should take. I really appreciate it! On another note, here's the next chapter.
> 
> A shout out to Jade Celandine on FF.Net for her continued support with this story and the others too.

**CHAPTER 3**

 

**Winterfell**

 

The lady Catelyn Stark of House Tully was an inherently devout and loving woman. Her faith resides with The Seven That Are One so it would be an understatement when every time she entered the Godswood she’d feel unwelcomed each and every time. Yet, that feeling did not stop her from entering it to find her lord husband to give him some saddening news.

“Ned.”

“Cat. Are the kids……?”

“They are fine, trying to name their new companions and learning their mannerisms so they are able to train them easier.” Catelyn replied to his unspoken question.

“They enjoy the surprise, then.”

“Very much so. Although Rickon is yet to be charmed by the new additions to the family.”

“He must be able to face his fears to improve himself.”

“Rickon is but five summers old how is he---, never you mind. You Starks are a tough lot, indeed.”

“I do not believe you came here to argue about the children, did you Cat?” Eddard asked after what felt like an unending moment of silence.

“No my dear it isn’t. I have grave news to share with you.”

“Well then….”

“I am sorry to have to give you these news, love but Jon Arryn is dead.”  _ ‘The words were finally said’ thought Catelyn. _

She could tell from the look in her husband’s eyes that it had deeply pained him to hear these news yet Catelyn was aware there was more to be told.

“Is this for certain?”

“My love, the King himself wrote the message and……” Here she took a deep breath.

“……The King has also sent word that he and the rest of the Royal family will be visiting us in the coming weeks.”

A few seconds of silence followed.

“There must be a reason for his Grace’s coming.” The lord finally spoke after noticing the nervousness his wife emanated.

“No matter his reasons the King will still come. I have since ordered the staff to take care of lodgings for the hundred or so people on their way.” The lady answered and with a pause to her stance, she moved towards her husband and laid a hand on his shoulder.

The lord himself placed his opposite hand over hers, staying still as if waiting for something to happen.

 

 

**PENTOS**

 

**“** DAENERYS” was heard all over the manse of Magister Illyrio Mopatis of Pentos as a man of three and twenty stomped through the hallways. A girl of five and ten who was being bathed close by flinched and tried to compose herself knowing it was her brother who called for her, expecting him to come by her chamber soon enough. As fast as she could she waived the servants away to their place of wait and decisively got out of the warm water of the tub.

 

Dany, as very few people called her was nervous. She knew what was expected of her but every time she had thoughts of what was to come this day she faltered. This usually made her brother angry and in turned made her more subdued. She had no one to confide her fears to, not since Ser Darry and the safety he represented that made her into who she now was, without her brother knowing, of course.

 

To her the servants tending to her represented something she did not like to think about. Freedom. Choice. She knew most if not all of them were slaves that had been sold/bought by the Magister and no one did anything. Their situation in turn reminded her of hers.

 

Just as Daenerys was done putting on her undergarments, the doors of her room were opened with a force that bellied Viserys’ Targaryens lank and fragile form.

 

Without even acknowledging the servant-girls he came upon his sister with a;

 

“Dearest did you not hear my calling you or did you choose to ignore the King, eh?” The exiled prince spoke with an edge that his sister knew would end up with a waking dragon sooner or later.

 

Immediately, Daenerys turned to face her brother, took a peek at the dress he left on the bed, looked back at him and with a seemingly meek voice answered her brothers quarry;

 

“'Twas wrong of me to make the King of Westeros, to make my brother wait but did you not say that I was in need of remedying my appearance?”

 

With only a sigh to acquiesce his listening, Dany began to loosened up her stance and thought to be safe from his wrath, but with a quick if not harsh movement of his empty hands, he immediately acted.

 

*Slap*

 

The so called King had indeed slapped his own sister.

 

“Do not give me cheek my dear. You know damn well you are to respect your betters. Am I clear?”

 

“Of course Viserys, forgive me for the disrespectful behavior that I showed you.” Truly, calling her brother his given name instead of his “title” was the least that she could do to show off the little respect she held for him.

 

“Very well. The dress over there should make your body stand out so that the Khal does not disappoint. Well, put it on! I want to see how you look.”

 

“Yes, my king.”

 

 

**Winterfell**

 

Lysara Snow was carrying on a very important task designated only to her. No one but Sara could do this, after all it was her duty after acquiring her companion.

 

“Come on Ghost! I know you can do this, you’ve already done the other commands so…...Sit!” Indeed, she could be seen to all, how she began the training of her direwolf pup: Ghost. She was one  of the last of the Stark children to do so but what she lacked in timely manner, she outshined in enthusiasm. Although to many she will look to be quietly speaking to her faithful friend, those who truly knew her were aware that Sara was indeed quietly enthused.

 

“My, my, Lysara are you not supposed to have finished with the training of your wolf a sennight ago?You have been slipping on your diligence, eh.” came from behind her. Sara having heard the steps coming towards her did not give any indication that she heard the bane of her existence; Theon Greyjoy, talking. After a close encounter with the Greyjoy heir that left both of them reeling at each other way back when she was three and ten, Lysara had come to the decision to never be alone with Theon without any form of defense if possible.

 

“I had duties to attend to Theon, you wouldn't understand how long it takes for that to be done especially when I have to do it everyday on orders of the lady Catelyn.” Sara responded after only a few seconds.

 

“I have a feeling that is not the only thing you do but even so it's not like you are anyone important to have to learn how to run a household or become a maester. And even so Robb as the heir having many more duties than you, he still made time for...what was his name? Oh yes, Grey Wind and for the whorehouse if you can imagine. What is your excuse?”

 

“None of your business, my lord. Now if you’ll excuse me I have tasks to tend to.” She spoke none too slowly as she bumped hard into Theon’s shoulder.

 

 

 

 

Later that evening, whilst Lysara finally finished with the training she tried not to think on Theon’s words. Robb was not hers, could never be hers, it was forbidden for them to be together. She knew in her mind she was doing the right thing by ignoring the heir of Winterfell but try to reason with the heart, it only wanted to be with its other half. Gods was she jealous of the news Theon brought her. Someone, even if that someone was a whore, was showing Robb what she imagined was immeasurable pleasure and she was left with nothing but a broken heart. The only comfort she held was that she was the one who held his love.

 

And indeed she did.


End file.
